Shards of a Broken Soul
by Snape with Oranges
Summary: What happens when the whole world turns against Harry? What's the Boy Wonder to do? Rated for Slash, rape and sex later. Don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter One

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter and co., I only wish I did! sigh If I owned Harry Potter, EVERYONE would be gay! Cause that's teh hawtness!

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Harry yawned and stretched as he awoke from his slumber. He wiped the golden-honeyed sleep from his deep whirlpools of emerald green. He stretched gracefully, like a puma, and cracked his bones. He dressed with amazing speed and flawless grace and bounded down the stairs, his feet barely touching the steps, even though Aunt Petunia and Dudley were out, Uncle Vernon was home with a cold, and Harry didn't want to disturb him.

Harry felt ambitious, and helped himself to a large, juicy grapefruit. The ominous thumping announced the arrival of his humongous, plump relative.

"Why you greedy little shit!" snarled Vernon. Vernon removed his belt, and his pants fell to his feet prohibiting how fast he could run at Harry. Nether the less, Vernon caught Harry and proceeded to slap him with the sharp, faux silver buckle.

Harry screamed. It hurt. It hurt worse than a thousand volcanoes emptying themselves of all their lava directly onto him, burning him, scalding him.

"P-p-please st-st-stoooop!" Harry pleaded pitifully, but Vernon continued, even after Harry lost consciousness.

When Harry came to several minutes later, he realized he was lying on the kitchen table. He felt something, and looked down to see Vernon fumbling with the waistband of Harry's pants. Harry opened his mouth and tried to scream as Vernon removed Harry's pants, but no sound came out. Harry shut his eyes as the pain washed over him. Waves of it came, again and again like a chain of tsunamis. Tears flowed from beneath his emerald eyes, and he found he was unable to make a lot of noise.

When Vernon had finally finished, he left the room. Harry slowly sat up and got down from the table. He managed to drag himself to his room, where he locked the door and then collapsed on his bed.

Harry lay on his bed for hours, silently weeping. He was in a lot of pain, and he felt incredibly dirty. He curled into the fetal position and began rocking back and forth, hoping the pain would eventually stop.

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So, what did you think? Was it any good? Should I continue? I'll only continue if I get 5 or more reviews! REVIEW! Please? puppy dog eyes Please, please, please, REVIEW! 


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N SorryI tookso long to update! I promise to be quicker now! Thanks to all the people who have reveirwed my work **

As the days progressed, so did the abuse. Harry knew of no way to stop it, and nothing he did made him feel better afterwards. With Petunia and Dudley home most of the time, Vernon couldn't abuse Harry as much as he wanted to. One day when Petunia had taken Dudley shopping yet again, Vernon had another "sick" day. When Vernon was done with Harry, Harry had taken a long, extremely hot shower. As he'd stood in the shower stall scrubbing every inch of his body, Vernon had burst into the bathroom and decided to punish Harry some more.

'My friends wouldn't recognize me anymore,' Harry thought as he looked sadly at his reflection in his mirror one night. And it was true, they wouldn't. Harry had lost a lot of weight, due to stress and depression recently. His already slim frame was gaunt, and covered in countless welts, sores and bruises. Harry watched as a single tear trickled out of his puffy right eye. It slid down his cheek, and then fell from his face like a glistening diamond. Harry felt the floodgates burst, and watched miserably as the tears flooded down his cheeks. His eyes began to turn red, which clashed with the mottles purples, yellows, greens and blues of the skin on his face.

He wiped away the tears, and winced. Even moving was painful, and sitting down had become near impossible. He glanced over at his calendar, and saw there were still two weeks left until the new term at Hogwarts. Two weeks! Harry wrote a letter to Ron, begging him to let him come to the Burrow. He didn't think he'd be able to handle two more weeks here.

If Aunt Petunia saw the bruises, she didn't say anything. He slowly winced his way from kitchen to dining room, at the steady pace of a crippled three-legged turtle dropped in the Sahara desert on a hot day in the middle of summer.

"Hurry up boy!" bellowed Vernon, as Harry at last made it to the table without aggrieving his abused skin. He placed the food on the table and winced as he took his seat, his eyes glued to his plate.

"So," began Aunt Petunia, "I was thinking I would take ickle Dudderkins to get his new school uniform. School starts in only two weeks." Dudley had lost a lot of weight from his diet and exercise. Aunt Petunia was quite proud to gloat that Dudley was now **not** wearing the largest uniform.

As Aunt Petunia told the table her plans to leave for today, Harry felt that little pool of dread he kept with him always these days explode like a geyser of foreboding and doom. He lifted his head, his eyes as wide as dinner plates, and looked at Aunt Petunia, mouth agape. She sneered at him coldly. He turned his gaze to Uncle Vernon who betrayed no emotion from his beady black eyes. His gaze quickly wandered back to his plate, blood running from his face, leaving him with a pasty white pallor.

It was just after one o'clock when Aunt Petunia and Dudley left. Contrary to what Harry expected, Vernon did not directly come for him.

It was just after three and Vernon had still not come for him. Harry thought he had gotten away with it, some of the color returned to his face. He was starting to feel less anxious, and the geyser of fear within him had dwindled to merely a fast-flowing river.

Harry was entertaining himself by starting to get a move on with his holiday homework. He was halfway through his potions essay when the door burst open. It had nearly flown off its hinges. Harry squealed in shock, and Vernon entered, smiling coldly.

"Hello Harry!"

Harry looked like a doe caught in the ultra-violet head beams of an all-terrain sports utility vehicle on a cool, dark moonless night.

"You didn't think I'd forget about you boy, did you?" Vernon couldn't keep the maniacal grin from his face.

Harry made a bolt for the door, but was caught and overpowered by Vernon, like a leaf caught in the never-ceasing twirls of a whirl-pool.

Harry whimpered as Vernon used him to let his anger out. Harry whimpered as Vernon added even more bruises to his already abused, barely healed body. Harry whimpered like a Chihuahua caught in a trash compactor.

Suddenly, the door burst open again. It was Aunt Petunia standing there, her mouth an almost non-existent line. She looked so angry she might combust, like a stone thrown into the mouth of a volcano. She looked at Harry, and then at Dursley…doing that to Harry. Then she looked solely at Harry again.

Harry…" she began coldly, "What the hell are you doing to my husband?" she screeched, "You bastard, you faggot, you little shit…you seduced my husband!" She stormed towards Harry, fury in her eyes. She slapped the startled Harry harshly across the face. "I take you in, out of the goodness of my heart, and this is how you repay me. You gay little shit, I just hope your sickness hasn't spread to my Duddy-kins." She slapped him some more, then picked him up by the scruff of his neck and bodily threw him from the house.

"Now you can live the rest of your life on the streets, with your other queer friends."

She threw Harry's belongings from the window (which wasn't much, mind you!). Harry's trunk narrowly missed landing on him. He quickly gathered his stuff and ran from that hell-hole of a house.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Haha I told you I'd update quicker. I typed up loads lst nite, so I'm uploadin it all now. Plz read and review! **

Harry felt a huge sense of relief when he saw the Knight bus pull up nearby. He quickly climbed on board, and asked the driver to take him to The Burrow. As the bus pulled up outside the Burrow, Harry felt a twinge of nervousness…what would he say to the Weasleys to explain his battered body?

Mrs. Weasley ran out of the house, "Oh Harry, it's so good to see you!" she exclaimed, then stopped, her mouth opening and shutting like a fish out of water. "Oh Harry, whatever happened to you?" she asked, shock oozing from her every crevice and pore.

"Oh, nothing!" Harry said, attempting to laugh, "Vernon just got a little angry, that's all."

Mrs. Weasley looked at him in disbelief, "A _little_ angry? Harry, you should you to St Mungoes!"

"No!" Harry, said, "I'm fine!"

"Well, if you're sure dear," Molly said hesitantly. "Um, Ron's not actually here at the moment, it's just me and Fred. The rest of the family is staying with Arthur's sister."

"Oh," Harry said, disappointed, "Why's Fred here?"

"Oh, he's just recovering from a cold. I didn't think it would be a good idea for him to travel, plus he has this bizarre hatred of his cousin. He demanded he stay at home, and I thought it would be best if I stay to look after him. Why don't you go in and see him Harry? I'm sure he'd love the company."

"Oh yeah, ok," Harry said as he walked toward the house.

Harry knocked cautiously on the door; he really didn't feel like socializing.

"Come in," rasped a deep voice. Harry walked in. He was greeted with the sight of Fred burrowed under dozens of blankets with a thermometer out the corner of his mouth, a hot water bottle full of ice tied to his head, and clutching a cup of chicken-noodle soup, home-made of course!

"Harry!" Fred exclaimed in excitement, "What are you doing here?"

"Er," Harry said, his eyes shrouding in darkness, like a massive black storm covering the sunshine. "Just felt like visiting, I guess" Harry spat out sullenly and sat on a stool in the corner and sulked.

"Geez Harry," Fred said suddenly noticing the bruises and welts, "You look even more crook than I do! What'dya do, kill someone? Haha!" he wheezed.

Harry glared at him, "Nothing happened, nothing! I'm fine! Fine! Fine! Fine!" he blinked back the tears which were threatening to fall.

"Ok, ok," Fred said mildly, spreading his hands in mock defense, "If you say so Harry."

"Yeah, well I do!" Harry sniffed, hiding the hand sized bruises on his wrists by pulling down his torn sleeves. Wiping at is eyes, which had now turned a suspicious red, like grapes stomped on and being looked at through a crystal on an autumn evening.

"Harry," Fred spoke gently. Harry didn't look at him, "If you ever need to ta-"

"Look, I am FINE!" Harry snapped, tears falling in earnest now, "I've never been more FINE. I couldn't be more FINE if I tried:

With that, Harry stormed out of the room slamming the door violently; it was like an earthquake had fled the tumultuous turmoil boiled up inside Harry. It knocked down three of Fred's shelves full of books and gimmicks.

Fred sighed. Seeing Harry so hurt made him love him even more. I'd better go slowly, Fred thought, Harry obviously wouldn't trust anyone for a while.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry stormed up the stairs and ran into Ron's bedroom. He roared with anger, and kicked Ron's wardrobe. Unfortunately for Harry, the wardrobe was magical, and it kicked him back. This only made Harry even madder. He was like a swarm of wasps chasing after a honey-pot. He yelled and screamed, and ripped up one of Ron's school books.

Harry threw himself on Ron's bed and screamed into Ron's pillow to muffle the sound. Once he calmed down and he had screamed himself hoarse, Harry finally noticed he felt something hard under the pillow. It was a flat hard object. Harry pulled it our. He gasped; it was a photo frame holding an image of him and Ron. They were clasping each other around the shoulders and grinning without a care in the world. Harry sniffled; on the bottom of the frame it said 'Besties 4 eva!' The tears that Harry had finally managed to quell came back violently. What a fool Harry was. He threw the photo at the wall, it smashed, the glass flew everywhere like a shower of diamonds.

Harry cried himself to sleep that night.

Harry awoke the next morning feeling very uncomfortable. He rolled over and realized he'd been lying in bits of broken glass form the photo hall night. He carefully picked a piece of the clear glass from his smooth milky skin, wincing as he watched the crimson blood rise to the surface. He wiped it away with a tissue and got up.

The anger Harry had been feeling the previous night had gone. It's amazing what a good nights sleep can do! Harry thought to himself as he got in the shower. He smiled as he rubbed the shampoo into his hair, as he felt the warm water beat down on his bruised back.

Suddenly, the water turned cold. Icy cold. Harry squealed indignantly, quickly washed off the shampoo, and jumped out of the shower. Unfortunately for Harry, he hadn't thought to put down a bathmat, so all the tiles around the shower were slippery. Harry went down on the floor with a very hard THUD! He lay on the floor moaning for a few minutes, and then got up and got dressed.

The days passed much faster, and were much more pleasant than at Privet Drive. Harry felt himself unwinding and becoming less tense. He'd also gotten a lot closer to Mrs. Weasley. She went out of her way to be nice to him. Harry felt it was quite refreshing, especially since Ron wasn't' back yet and Fred was still ill.

On one sunny day Harry was helping himself to a glass of water from the tap. He turned to see Mrs. Weasley come directly towards him. She was wearing a loose black overcoat, which accidentally opened to reveal a hot red negligee, complete with a teddy.

"Hi Mrs. Weasley," said Harry after taking a gulp of water.

"Please, call me Molly," said Ron's mother in a much deeper voice than usual.

"Are you ok?" Harry asked, confused.

I'm grand," she said grinning ferally, "Just help yourself to _anything_ you see in the kitchen." Her voice heavy with meaning and her robe once again blowing open with a non-existent wind.

"Wow thanks, er…Molly," and Harry wandered into the cupboard like a raccoon in a rubbish bin.

Suddenly, the light disappeared; a figure was standing behind him.

"Wha…what's happening?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"Oh Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, pawing at him. She kissed him, wild passionate kisses all over his face. "Oh Harry," she said again, "take me right here!"

Harry gasped, "OMGWTF? Mrs. Weasley are you insane! He pushed her away and cowered in the corner.

"Oh Harry, you know you want me," Mrs. Wesley panted, as she came closer to Harry.

"Um no, Mrs. Weasley, I think there's been a misunderstanding!" Harry protested.

Suddenly, Mrs. Weasley gave a very loud sob. "Oh Harry," she sobbed, "How could you lead me on like that?" She began hitting Harry in frustration with a baguette. "You horrible boy, you know how lonely I feel without Mr. Weasley and you just took advantage of me..." With that she gave Harry one more resounding thwack with the baguette, it broke on Harry's head and she ran away to her bedroom, slammed the door, and cried.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry sat on the pantry floor, breathing deeply in shock, the baguette hanging limply over his head and glasses. Harry sniffed. This was all he was good for, letting other people let out all their emotions using him. And he even sucked at that.

Harry barked out his sadness like a seal. Then he howled. Harry was getting very good at howling. If I was an actor, Harry thought smugly, I could so play the part of a werewolf.

He realized he had crumbs all down his back, and it was really uncomfortable, so he howled again. Then he buried his head in his hands and sobbed.

Harry sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. Suddenly, the door to the pantry opened again. Harry cringed, expecting Mrs. Weasley. It wasn't.

"Harry, are you like, alright?" Fred asked with concern in his voice. He sat down next to Harry and put his arm around Harry's shoulders.

Harry tensed in his shoulders, as Fred began rubbing Harry's arm with his own.

"Harry, I have a confession to make…" If possible, Harry tensed even more. "Um…how to say this…" Fred continued, "Harry, so you…do you…um…" Harry was so tense you could use him as ironing board. "…like guys?"

Harry was so tense he couldn't blink. "Harry? Did you hear me?"

Harry snapped. He turned on Fred like a dog infected with rabies, "  
I'm not GAY! I'm NOT. I'd never let a guy do stuff to me. Ever! Like, EWWW! Ohmygod I can't believe you asked me that!" Harry screamed. He was hyperventilating.

Fred leapt back, shocked by Harry's response. "Um, I'm really sorry Harry; I don't know why I asked you. It's just…"

"Just what?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. He was suddenly very much aware of Fred's presence; he could hear Fred's nervous breathing and smell his aftershave. He felt a strange feeling inside him; however it was quickly squashed down by Harry's fear of getting found out.

He quickly backed away from Fred, terrified that he'd end up kissing him. Harry wanted Fred to like him, and he knew if Fred found out about…Harry's feeling, he'd be totally revolted.

Fred averted his gaze, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. "I…I…I…" Fred stammered. Suddenly, the fireplace burst with activity. A ruffled up Ron wandered into the kitchen, dusting himself off.

**A/N Sorry this chappie's so short! Lolz, the next will be longer. It's taking me forever to type up cause it's so long, but don't worry, I have still a litte more typed up! **

**Aww, poor Harry and Fred. Plz review!**


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey Ron," Harry said quickly, eager to get out of an awkward situation. Fred glared at his sibling for taking his pet from him.

Harry and Ron quickly departed for Ron's room, catching up the whole way. Once in the room, Ron turned on Harry, "What happened to my stuff?" indicating the glass and his school book. Harry blushed and traced his big toe in circles. "Um…ecological disaster?"

"Oh," said Ron, scrunching his face up, not understanding, "Er…alright then."

Harry couldn't help but notice how tall Ron was, and how much he had filled out over the summer, and how tanned he was…

"Er, excuse me Ron," said Harry sprinting out of the room. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Harry cried in anger. He thought he had got those unnatural thoughts under control, ever since he had started comparing Dudley's hotness to his friends. Harry had to punish himself to get it under control. Harry locked himself I the bathroom, looked in the mirror and started slapping himself in the face.

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! Harry looked at himself in the mirrors. There were tears in his eyes and big red handprints on his cheeks. He splashed cold water on his face, relieved when the slap marks began to fade. He dried his face and blew his nose, then went back to Ron's room.

As he walked in, he felt an uncontrollable pull of lust. Pull yourself together! He told himself sternly.

"Ya know, you can sit down," Ron said, looking at Harry.

"Oh yeah, of course!" Harry said, feeling stupid. He sat next to Ron on Ron's bed and absent-mindedly fiddled with the bedspread.

"Wanna play wizard chess?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, sure!" Harry said, glad of the distraction. Ron set up the board, and they began to play. Halfway through the game, Harry couldn't help stealing a glance at Ron. He had a lock of hair in his face. Harry reached out and pushed it away. He almost gasped as he felt a bolt of electricity pass though him. (A/N of course, it wasn't' really electricity!) His hand lingered on Ron's face. Ron gazed at Harry curiously, and their eyes locked. Harry couldn't' control himself anymore. He forgot about the chess game and launched himself at Ron.

As their lips connected, Harry felt an indescribable feeling. It felt so right! Harry could have continued kissing Ron forever, but then Ron pushed him away.

"What the hell are you doing?" he screeched, "Harry, have you completely lost your mind?"

Harry opened his emerald green peepers wide at Ron, his lips still puckered up. Tears began to well. "But Ron, didn't you feel it?"

"The only thing I felt was your mouth connecting to mine which is like, so wrong!"

Harry felt like a man drowning, a man who at one point had been standing on solid ground, but now had the floor ripped out from underneath him. Harry was too lost to respond.

Looking into Harry's eyes Ron didn't know what to say. Harry looked so genuinely hurt, and he had caused that as if he had just as well slapped in the face.

"Look Harry er…I'm…ah…just gonna…uh, go for a bit…to think!" Ron said, quickly leaving, a confused look on his face.

When Harry felt sure that Ron had gone, he let his emotions out. He brayed like a wounded donkey. Why did this, this unnaturalness keep happening to him? Harry thought back to the day when it had all started.

Harry was 8 and he had been listening in on one of Dudley's conversations. He hadn't understood what was going on, so he went to Aunt Petunia for clarification.

"Aunt Petunia, Ma'am, whassa ho-mo-sex-u-al?"

It had been an instantaneous reaction. Aunt Petunia had turned on him like a ravenous baboon. She slapped him once for mentioning such filth, slapped him twice for mentioning such unnaturalness, and slapped him thrice just for the heck of it.


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